


Imirril

by procellous



Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Baby Dwarves, Banishment, Deaf Character, F/M, Lies of Omission, Nonbinary Character, Orphans, POV Deaf Character, POV Nonbinary Character, POV Trans Character, Rating May Change, Self-Exile, Soulmates, Soulmates of Choice, Trans Character, Trans Male Character, Warnings May Change
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-12-25
Updated: 2014-12-26
Packaged: 2018-03-03 10:45:30
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,227
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2848109
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/procellous/pseuds/procellous
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kíli left Erebor thirty years ago, slipping into the night with Tauriel and out of all knowledge.</p><p>Or at least, that's what he thought. Because Fíli, Prince under the Mountain, will not let his brother get away that easily. Not when they have unfinished business to attend to.</p><p>(Kíli/Tauriel, possible future Fíli/Kíli/Tauriel)</p><p>(Title is Khuzdul and means "Love Excessively")</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kíli has an unexpected visitor.

Litr crouched under the stairs. Da was about to come home from his hunt, and Litr wanted to be there when he arrived.

The door opened, but it wasn’t Da. At first he thought it was, but the new person was too short and too broad. And besides, his clothes were too fancy. He wore lots of braids, too. Really intricate and formal braids. He had never seen so many braids on one head.

Da walked in, empty-handed, and saw the visitor.

“Good afternoon,” he called, “I’m afraid that I have no meat today, so you’ll have to come back tomorrow. Or are you here for my skills at repairs?”

“I am here for neither.” The visitor stood, and faced Da. Compared to the visitor, Da was almost skeletal. He turned aside, hung up his cloak and quiver, and set down his bow.

“Good afternoon, Prince under the Mountain,” Da said when he was done. _Prince_?

“I come to find my brother and instead find a stranger. You look thinner, nadadith.”

Da had a _brother_? Da had a brother that was a _prince_?

“And you have grown neater and stouter. The years have been kind to you, Prince under the Mountain.”

“Don’t call me that!” The words were snapped out forcefully.

“Then what should I call you?” Da snapped back. “What would you have me say?”

“I…I would have you call me brother again.”

Da laughed. "You have never been anything besides."

“Litr, what are you doing?” He nearly jumped out of his skin at his twin’s voice.

“Shhhhhhh,” he said frantically. “They don’t know we’re here!”

“Oh,” Vitr said. “I’ll be quiet.”

“Then come home, Kíli. We’ve missed you.” 

“No. I am unwelcome there, and we both know it.”

“Who said that? You could never be unwelcome in your own home!”

Da sighed. “It is better for the both of us that I stay away. You will be king one day. It is for the best—”

“Who are _you_ to tell me what is best? I will be king one day—Mahal willing that day will come in many years—and I will not rule unless you are by my side, you and Tauriel both!"

“Who are _you_ to come here and order me about as if I was your subject?"

“If I am unwelcome here, nadadith, then tell me now and spare us both the trouble."

"You have never been unwelcome here."

"And when you snuck off like a thief that night? What was I supposed to think?"

“Fíli. You think I ran away that night because I thought you would force me? My bag had been packed for weeks. I started packing after Thorin was crowned. I was a burden, my presence was making things harder for you and Uncle—no, don’t pretend that wasn’t what it was, we both know I was a burden.”

“You could never be a burden, Kíli—”

“Thorin set _Bilbo_ on tasks more important than what he gave me. What would you have me do, hide in the royal quarters for the rest of my life?” Thorin. Bilbo. The names were unfamiliar. How much had Da not told them? Did Khali know this?

“I would have you come home. I found you, I would have you by my side when I returned.”

“Speaking of which, how _did_ you find me?”

“Followed you and Tauriel south for a while—you two were traveling faster than I was—anyway, I think I went a bit farther east than you did before I realized that there was only one place where elves and dwarves live close together. Most of the time was spent looking for your village, actually. You weren’t easy to find.”

“It’s been thirty years—you were tracking me down the entire time?” 

“Not exactly. I wanted to, but after a year Dwalin came after me. Sent me back to Erebor while he searched. We traded off a few times.”

Da’s eyebrows drew together in confusion. “Dwalin was looking for me?”

“We all were. Nori pulled some strings—I don’t want to know any details on those strings, because I’m pretty sure they were illegal—to keep some eyes out for you.”

“Why?”

“Because you’re my brother, and because we care about you, and because you should come home.”

“I can’t.”

“Why not?”

“Look around you, why do you think? I’ve made a life here, for me and my family. I have children, responsibilities.”

“I know. And I also know that you’re thinner than you’ve ever been. Look at you, Kíli, you could have a better life. You, Tauriel, your children—why would you turn away from that?”

“I don’t need your charity, Fíli.”

“It’s not charity, Kee. It’s your birthright, it’s your kids’ birthright. Kíli, look at you! You could have a fourteenth share of the treasures of Erebor, and you would turn away from it for what? Struggling to feed yourself and your family in a small village in Gondor?”

“You sound like Uncle. And what about Tauriel? Is it _her_ birthright, too?”

“What do you mean “what about Tauriel”? She married you, didn’t she? Your family is hers, and her family is yours. She comes with you, same with your kids. What, did you think we would turn her away at the gates because she’s an elf? She’s your One.”

Da looked away.

“D’you think he’ll go with him?” Vitr whispered.

“Dunno.”

“Please, Fíli, just go. I’ve made my choice. I made it thirty years ago."

“Is Erebor not good enough for you? Did you not struggle enough to reclaim it? Is that it?”

“Fíli—”

“Am _I_ not good enough for you?”

“How could you say that? Fíli, I rejected your offer because of Tauriel, not because of you!”

Fíli seemed taken aback. Vitr and Litr stared at each other, not understanding what was going on.

“Is she jealous, then? She did not seem it, when last we spoke.”

“No, that’s not it. Our ways are not hers. Elves marry only once, and to marry a sibling is the greatest taboo for them. Do you not see why I turned you down? If you were to be our third, you would be Tauriel’s husband as well as mine, and that is not her way.”

“Do you know what’s happening?” Litr hissed to his twin.

“It’s grown-up stuff. We shouldn’t even be here, we’re gonna get in _so_ much trouble.”

As they whispered to each other, the conversation continued, growing steadily in volume.

“Dehersu zirin kall, nadad!” Da finally shouted.

“I see. Farewell then, baby brother. The gates of Erebor are always open to you. And my offer still stands, if you should wish it."

He left, the door swinging shut behind him. Da buried his head in his hands.

“You can come out now, I know you’re there.”

Litr looked at Vitr, who shrugged helplessly. The two of them slunk out of their hiding place.

“I suppose you want to know why I didn’t tell you.”

“You didn’t even tell us you had a brother.”

“Believe it or not, I was trying to protect you. If you had known, what would you have done? If you knew that I was royalty, that all of you were royalty—what would you have done?”

“We’d want to go back there,” Vitr said. “But why’d you leave?”

“You heard us talking. What do you think?”

“That…you weren’t wanted there? Because Ma’s an elf?” Litr tried.

“And there was something about an offer?” Vitr added.

“Fíli’s offer to me wasn’t why I left, Vitr. It was because of your Ma.”

“But didn’t he say that she’d be welcome there ’cuz she’s your One?”

“Fíli doesn’t speak for everyone in Erebor.”

“But you taught us that Ones are sacred!"

"And they are. But some people think that she's not really my One because she's an elf."

“Oh. So you’re not going back?” Vitr asked.

Da smiled. Well, not quite a smile. The corner of his mouth quirked up. “Not yet, at least.”

“But you might?”

“Maybe someday,” he said, ruffling Vitr’s hair. “For now, you two should go get Khali. It’s nearly dinnertime.”

“Yes, Da,” they chorused. They ran into the bedroom the three of them shared on the second floor, taking the steps two at a time.

* * *

Fíli stood on a hilltop overlooking Kíli’s village, watching as the sun set and everyone started going inside. His brother had refused to return home—to return to where he belonged. In the evening light, Kíli’s house looked warm and snug, cozy and inviting—but he had been inside, he knew the truth. The house was drafty and cramped, with barely enough room for one person, let alone five.

Why was Kíli still here? Still in a village of men, working long hours and barely making enough to survive. They had their home back, why would Kíli _choose_ exile?

The bond of a dwarf and their One (or Two, or Three, or however many they chose) was sacred. Nobody would dare reject Kíli for his choice. He knew Amad had told them that, over and over again. A dwarf’s One was part of their soul. To reject a dwarf’s One was to reject the dwarf.

Why would Kíli refuse safety and plenty? What was he afraid of?

He turned away from the village, poking at the small fire he had built. Kíli’s choices were not his to question.

He would leave for Erebor in the morning, and bring with him the news of Kíli’s location. With one last glance towards the village, he prepared for bed.

Sleep eluded him that night, and he found himself replaying their conversation—ha, who was he kidding? It was an argument—over and over again. Where had he gone wrong? Why had Kíli refused to come home?

He had not seen his brother for thirty long years, not since he had mustered up enough courage to speak to him, since he had made an offer.

Kíli claimed that his offer was not why he left, but…perhaps it had been the catalyst. Perhaps it had been the final blow that drove Kíli away from his home.

If he had just waited, if he could be patient for once in his life then perhaps Kíli would be where he belonged. Perhaps he would know his niblings.

Kíli had kids. A wife. A household—when had his little brother settled down enough to start a family? If Fíli had been just a little faster, had not gone so far east, he might have been able to convince Kíli—to bring him back to Erebor, before he had ties to this mannish village.

No wonder Kíli wouldn’t return with him. Fíli had spent thirty years doing nothing but tracking down his runaway little brother while said little brother had put down roots—and then who should come waltzing back in but Fíli, to tell him that what he had done, the life that he had built for himself, wasn’t good enough. That he should leave it all behind and return to Erebor, to the life he had turned away from.

It was with a heavy heart that Fíli succumbed to sleep, and his dreams were uncomforting.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Khuzdul translations:
> 
> nadad - brother  
> nadadith - little brother  
> dehersu zirin kall - you are striking cold iron (you are trying to change something that cannot be changed)


	2. Urs'mamahharul

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Smaug died thirty years ago. But his legacy continues to haunt the dwarves of Erebor—especially Kíli and his family.
> 
> (Title means "fire that continues to burn")

_It’s your birthright._

Clang.

_It’s your children’s birthright._

Clang.

_You could never be a burden._

Clang.

_I would have you call me brother._

Clang.

_Come home, Kíli._

Clang.

Kíli paused in his relentless work and eyed the pot critically, holding it up to the light. The metal was even, but the pot had too many weak points. It wouldn’t take much stress to break again.

_The gates of Erebor are always open to you._

He picked up his hammer again, and prepared to add another layer of metal to the weaker points.

_You look thinner, nadadith._

Clang.

_You would turn away from your birthright for what?_

Clang.

_Struggling to feed yourself and your family in a small village in Gondor?_

Clang!

The worst part of it was that Fíli was right. Kíli had grown thin. Still strong enough to wield a hammer, and by men’s standards he looked well-fed, but by a dwarf’s? He was skeletal.

He should return to Erebor. Khali and Litr and Vitr—they should have the best. And in Erebor, the best could be more than what little he could scrape together.

And Khali would be turning thirty soon. It would be good for them to spend time with other dwarflings, not men’s children—their old playmates were adults now. He wasn’t a fool, he knew Khali was lonely—Litr and Vitr had each other, but his children were just far enough apart that they couldn’t play together well.

The pot was done, and he moved on to the horseshoes.

Khali was also nearly the proper age to begin training in a craft, and he would not let his child apprentice to a mannish master. Khali would train under a dwarf or not at all.

Erebor called to him like a siren. He understood, now, Thorin’s drive to reclaim the Lonely Mountain. For Khali’s sake, for Litr and Vitr’s.

And Tauriel? Any decision would have to wait for her return. She would not be back from guarding the merchant caravans she had been hired to guard as a sell-sword for another month.

What did he want for _himself_? It was simple enough to know what he wanted for Tauriel and their children, but what did he want for himself? Oh, he loved Fíli. That was simple enough. He loved Fíli like he loved Tauriel. He loved Thorin and Amad, though in different ways than Fíli. He loved the Company and Erebor.

Gondor would never be home the same way the Ered Luin or Erebor would be. Strange, he had spent a fraction of the time he spent in Gondor in Erebor, but it was more of a home to him than Gondor ever would be.

He finished the horseshoes and put out the fire, cracking his back.

When had he gotten so old? Three children, a wife, a household—what had happened? He could never regret Tauriel or Khali or the twins, but he was only a hundred and seven. Khali had come only a year after the battle, the twins ten years later. _Nar’gann. Tatahi’ân. Kurdûthikil._

For that matter, why had Uncle let him join the Company? He had been seventy-seven when he signed the contract, just barely of age—and looking back, he had been _far_ too young. Mahal, _Fíli_ had been too young. His head hit the wall of his forge—and he had a forge now, a steady job as the tinker and smith of this village—and he glared at the horseshoe on the anvil, like it had the solution and wasn’t telling him.

* * *

Tauriel returned a month later, with no injuries save for a bruise on her arm from tripping over a rock. Kíli laughed when she told him.

“So, the elf who can walk on snow trips over a rock? Tauriel, I’ve seen you balance on the edges of barrels, how do you _trip_ over a _rock_?”

“Oh hush, like you haven’t done the same.”

“Well yeah, but _I_ make no pretense of, ah—d’akhjum 'azg fundul.”

Tauriel laughed and swatted his arm. “Ass. I don’t know why I married you.”

“You wouldn’t know what to do with yourself without me.”

“Ma!” Litr called, wrapping his arms around her legs, letting go for a moment to sign as he spoke. “Ma, me and Vi—I mean, Vi and me—we went to the creek and found frogs and Khali signed that if we picked them up we’ll get warts but I don’t think so ’cuz we picked them up but we didn’t get any warts!”

“TOAD,” Khali signed. “TOAD GIVE WART NOT FROG LITR LIE.”

“LONG TIME NO SEE KHALI,” Kíli signed. “WHERE YOU GO?”

Khali glared at him and hugged Tauriel.

“Ma Ma Ma!” Vitr squealed and signed. “You’re back! Did you know Da has a brother? ’Cuz we didn’t and then he came here and Da shouted at him and he shouted back! Except they weren’t shouting. But they were defi—defin—they were really really angry! And they were talking about. Um. Something about Da going home?”

“Fíli came here?” Tauriel asked Kíli.

“About a month ago, now. Said we should move to Erebor. I said no.” Discreetly, he added the signs TALK LATER.

Khali slipped away as they spoke—Litr and Vitr were absorbed in their mother’s stories, and Kíli snuck off after his eldest.

Khali was absorbed in a book, head buried in the pages. He recognized it—a book of tales he had written out for them. Reading was harder for Khali than it was for Litr or Vitr; without being able to hear what sounds the symbols stood for, words became nearly incomprehensible. But Khali had a stubborn streak a mile wide, and decided that they would be able to read. Nowadays the few books Kíli and Tauriel could get for them were their constant companions, and his guilt about that alone—both that they have no other playmates and that they only have a few books, and nearly all of those handwritten by Kíli or Tauriel—would be reason enough to return to Erebor. Khali needs companions, companions that can sign to them and know how to include them in games, and there are no other dwarves in the small village they live in.

Their finger rested on the words as their other hand formed the letters, and their face lit up as they figured out the word. Kíli felt pride bubble up in his chest as he watched them.

Then they noticed Kíli standing in the doorway and their face fell. Khali put the book aside and drew their knees up to their chest. He moved over to them, sitting crosslegged on the floor beside their bed.

“KHALI,” he signed. “I SORRY.”

Khali blinked and stared at him, mouth falling open. “YOU SORRY?”

“YES, I SORRY. SHOULD NOT TEASE YOU.”

“FORGIVEN,” they sign, and he knew he did not deserve their easy forgiveness, because his apology was for more than just the teasing. Still, he opened his arms for a hug and Khali nearly leapt onto him, wrapping themself in his arms. Kíli ran his fingers through their hair and reached behind him, unclipping the clasp that held his hair back. It was the one he had worn on their journey, which by some miracle survived through the battle and the years following it. He fastened it into Khali’s hair, remembering his Amad doing the same for him.

Khali gave him a gap-toothed smile and pressed the side of their head to his throat. He took the hint, and began to hum an old song; a song about home and fire and gold. The tune carried him back thirty years, and only Khali’s soft breathing kept him rooted in the present.

Khali fell asleep at some point in the song, and he gently lifted them up onto their small bed, tugging the blankets up to their chin and stroking their auburn hair. Just then, he heard soft footfalls on the stairs and saw Tauriel with a twin in each arm, both fast asleep. Kíli took Litr from her and tucked him into bed as Tauriel did the same for Vitr.

“So, Fíli?” Tauriel prompted when they were alone in their bedroom.

Kíli sighed. “He came by about a month ago, like I said earlier. He…thinks I should go back to Erebor. Said that it was my birthright, that it was the kids’ birthright.”

“And me?”

“You’d be welcome there, I know you would be. I may have told the twins a little different—I wanted to keep it simple for them—but my kin would welcome you. If anything, you’d have a place just to twist Thranduil’s beard.”

“Thranduil doesn’t have a beard, meleth.”

“You know what I meant.”

“True enough, I suppose. But you said no?”

“For one thing, I wanted to wait until you got here. And for another…”

“The kids?”

“They’re so young. It’d be wrong to uproot them. But at the same time, they don’t fit in well.”

“Kíli, stop worrying for a moment. Sleep. These decisions are better made in the morning.”

“I don’t know what I did to deserve you.”

“You nearly got your fool self killed by orcs, that’s what you did.”

“I’d do it all over again in a heartbeat, amrâlé.”

“Alright, what’s going on?”

“What do you mean?”

“While you are often cheesy _this_ is a new extreme. What are you hiding?”

“…I’m worried. About Khali, mostly, but also the twins. They’re isolated, Tauriel, Khali especially—the twins at least have each other.”

“Kíli, meleth,” Tauriel said, exasperated. “It’s late. _Sleep_. Worry in the morning.”

“How did I ever get someone as clever as you to marry me?”

“You have your good qualities. And it helped that you’re not hard to look at.”

“Such high praise from the elf who tripped over a rock.”

“I’ll be hearing about that for a while, won’t I?”

“You’ll hear about it until it stops being funny. Which will be a while.”

Tauriel laughed and thumped him with a pillow. “You are _incorrigible_.”

“You know you love me.”

“Considering I married you, I’d hope so.”

Slowly, the pair dropped off to sleep. While Tauriel did not necessarily _need_ sleep—elves rarely required rest—she enjoyed it nonetheless.

And because they were both asleep, neither noticed when the roof caught fire until the room was filled with heat.

Flames licked at the walls, cracking the paint and filling the room with smoke. Kíli awoke first, staring at the flames but not seeing them, horror in his eyes as he watched Laketown burn. Tauriel woke moments later, smoke tickling her throat.

The doorframe collapsed, and the noise dragged Kíli out of his memories and into the present. There was an opening, narrow and high up, that was not blocked by the burning wood—big enough for an elf, but too small for even a thin dwarf.

“Tauriel, you have to get out of here!”

“I’m not going anywhere without you!”

“Argue with me and we both d—burn! I’ve faced Smaug, love, I’m not afraid of a house fire. Go. Get the kids. I’ll be fine.”

“I’ll come back for you, Kíli, I swear—”

“Go!” She pressed a kiss to his forehead, and leapt through the opening and into the smoke-filled hallway, escaping just as the roof collapsed.

Khali had grabbed the twins and was leading them out of their room, strips of cloth tied around their mouths and noses. They had taken the time to grab the small bow Kíli had given them as a name-day gift last year, but they were unhurt and Tauriel couldn’t find the heart to scold them for it, not while the house was collapsing around them. Instead, she took the twins from Khali and led them all to the hill outside the village.

“STAY HERE,” she signed, making sure Khali could see her. “PROTECT TWINS.”

“I UNDERSTAND,” Khali replied.

“STRONG,” Tauriel signed, pride making her eyes well up. Maybe that was just the smoke. “YOU STRONG. I LOVE YOU.”

Tauriel kissed them on the forehead and raced back into the burning house. Without care for her own safety, she pushed the burning beams away from the doorway of her room, searching desperately for a sign of Kíli.

A hacking cough lead her to Kíli, pinned beneath a burning beam.

“Told you…I’d be fine,” he croaked between coughs. “This…this is nothing.” He tried to grin.

“I’m going to get you out.”

“The kids?”

“Safe and sound. Khali got the twins out, they’ll be fine.”

“Not gonna…be able to…to get out, love.”

“Yes you are. I’m going to save you, meleth, I’ll get you out if I have to carry you.”

* * *

Khali watched, holding the twins back, as the small house they had spent their whole life in burned and collapsed under its own weight.

Ma had run back in for Da, and neither of them came back out. Khali watched until the fire died down to ashes.

Litr and Vitr were still struggling to get to Ma and Da as the house collapsed to cinders, and Khali wanted to cry. _YOU STRONG_ , Ma had signed.

They had to be strong now, strong for the twins, because Ma and Da weren’t coming back.

What was going to happen to them? They had nothing but the clothes on their back. They had no food, no money, nothing at all.

Khali could hunt, they had the bow Da made them, but that was too risky to be their only source of food. Could they steal something? No, that was wrong, and they were too likely to get caught.

Didn’t Da have a brother? Which meant they had an uncle, and someone who could take care of them until they got big enough to take care of the twins themself. All they had to do was go to Erebor and find him.

Vitr tapped their shoulder. “WHERE WE GO NOW?”

“EREBOR,” Khali signed. “UNCLE.”

The sun had not yet risen when they turned away from the ruins and began to walk to Erebor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm ignoring the morgul shaft, so Kíli was in Erebor when Laketown burned.
> 
> Khuzdul translations:
> 
> amrâlé - my love  
> d'akhjum 'azg fundul - turn an elvish eye (display aloofness or disdain)  
> Kurdûthikil - heart of steel  
> nadadith - little brother  
> Nar'gann - new beginning  
> Tatahi'ân - laughing river
> 
> Sindarin translations:
> 
> meleth - love  
> meleth nin - my love


End file.
